Insomniac
by dressed to the nines
Summary: I noticed there was something familiar in the how he stepped. His pace was heavy, almost sleepy like. But that one little detail didn't matter as it was overpowered by the aura of confidence that surrounded him. He held himself as if there wasn't a care in his world— —and I envied that. Kim/Jack Crack!Fic Mature Language But Thats About It


ONE

**It was loud.**

It's always been loud, that's not what I meant, but tonight it was audible through the thick walls of my bedroom, which, mind you, is downstairs and the farthest from their own. I assumed they were arguing about the same old thing. There were only ever two things they screamed their voices hoarse over. And one of those reasons was our own little abyss of debt. The other, the cause of the latter, was the fact that my mother was unemployed and hadn't been able to hold a job for more than a month in two years.

Dad had a job of course. It's not like they both lazed around the house all day while I went to school. He had a nice stable job as a teacher. But being a teacher ultimately did not pay well and the new thing about grades affecting the size of that paycheck didn't help the death pit from growing larger.

Considering that we live in a generously sized two-story house makes my situation ironic— now that I think about it.

God.

We didn't always have financial problems; let me tell you this now. I don't want you to get the idea that my parents are impulse buyers. My mom actually used to be a lawyer.

A hell of a good one too.

But that story is for another time; another day.

All I can say is that my mom didn't deal with what happened well. Ignoring me and my father's outstretched hand she began drinking. A lot.

I would sometimes find her passed out on the couch, the empty bottle dangling aimlessly in her sodden fingers. My father would be leaning her limp body into his chest when he found her like that. He would caress her hair until she woke up.

There was no caressing of anything tonight.

After a few minutes of trying, and failing to go back to sleep I got up, begrudgingly, and slicked my hair back into a lazy pony-tail with a sigh. Grabbing my jacket, I shrugged it on before I heaved my window open. The night air was pretty warm for September but the light breeze caused an immediate temperature difference in my bedroom.

I slid out.

Still hearing the loud sounds of my parents when I had made it to front sidewalk, I knew, they'd never know I was gone.

I scowled.

**"Kim, you look awful."**

I scoffed. "Thanks, Grace. I needed a refreshing comment like that at nine in the morning."

Yanking down my lock after spinning in the combination, I opened my locker forcefully which caused it to emit a metallic rattle. Inside, textured blue wallpaper lined the interior. There was a small hook for my backpack on the top and a mirror on the inside of the door. All my textbooks were standing neatly beside one another organized by thickness with their corresponding binders making it easy for me to grab-n-go.

Call off the intervention. I admit and acknowledge that I'm a major neat freak. I feel that I organize to make up for the disorder at home.

Man— I could be a kick-ass therapist.

Grabbing my geometry book and its matching mustard colored folder, I could see Grace out of the corner of my eyes— rolling her own. My so-called 'friend' then gave the ends of her glossy brown hair a comb through with her long fingers as she shrugged her shoulders indifferently. "I'm just saying it like it is, yo."

There was a familiar absent-mindedness in her words and actions and I stopped piling things into my arms to look at her straight in the eyes with a smirk. "You. Sound. Like. Jerry."

It was her turn to scoff.

"This swag is nothing like that brainless beanie wearing meatba—" she suddenly trailed off with a gasp and her 'oh so cool' expression changed into horror and realization. Grace then began flapping her hands as if they were on fire.

"Oh. My. God. Oh my god. Oh my freaking god he's rubbed off on me!" she exclaimed, panic-stricken. "I've spent too much time taking dancing lessons with him!"

Right then and there she began removing her leather jacket and excess gold necklaces.

How cliché.

The loose dancer-esque pullover underneath was ripped off to show a more Grace-like purple tee. She practically tore off her leggings to leave her in a black skirt. The material looked like leather. Odd. Then her sneakers came off and, from someplace I wasn't aware of, she whipped out a pair of flats. She shoved all her shredded garments into her locker and slammed it shut before sliding on the shoes with a relieved exhale. "That's better."

I scratched nervously at my cheek. "Um. . . Grace? You kinda have something on your—" I tentatively pointed to her head and she reached a tentative hand up.

With her eyes wide, in one swift movement she yanked her own fuchsia beanie off and chucked it on top my pile of books.

"Get it away!"

**Though the distraction this morning,** the Jerry Catastrophe as I'd labeled it to Grace's unamusement, held her off from prying further into why I looked awful, it didn't stop the questions from the rest of the guys from coming full force during lunch.

"Ok, Kim, no offense or anything— but you look like your half dead." Milton had told me.

I gasped at the blow to my ego and crossed my arms defensively over my chest. "Oh, no offense taken, Milton. Even though you basically told me I looked like something that reeks and eats the thing it doesn't have! No. No offense. At. All."

Milton shrunk back into his chair mumbling something about hormones. I decided it was best to ignore him.

There was a beat of silence before, "Why does Kim look like a zombcoon?"

Eddie was the only one that asked what a zombcoon was while the rest of the table shouted, "Jerry!" in a reprimanding tone. A couple of people looked over from their table to see what the commotion was. When they saw Jerry standing there they immediately turned back to their food not interested anymore.

Jerry is what you call— stupid. There isn't a second way around it.

I mean, he does have his moments. This was just not one of them.

My gaze sharpened in realization and shot back to Milton. "Why are you yelling at Jerry? You basically called me the same thing!"

Milton didn't bother replying, he just held his hands up in surrender.

"That's what I thought." I glared at the scrawny boy next to me.

"Kim?" a soft voice floated from across the table.

"Julie."

"Did you get enough sleep last night?"

For a worried moment I thought Julie had caught on to my 'aventures de nuit'. But then I rationalized. My friends have never mentioned how horribly tired I looked until now.

"No," I said, "I didn't get much sleep because of a nightmare I had— yeah— a nightmare." I gave a meek smile in hopes that they would buy my cheap lie.

"You know, Kim, most of the time dreams have a relationship to events that occurred during the day. Did anything hap—

"Who's that?" Kelsey asked when she had finally made it over to our table for lunch. Ms. Stein always had math class stay late. Something to do with meditation and the quadratic formula. Don't ask.

"Who?" I asked, though it sounded a little too eager. I really didn't want the philosophy of dreams at te moment. Ignoring the raised eyebrows I was receiving I continued searching for whoever or whatever Kelsey was talking about. The main thing was that attention was averted from me.

"That kid over there." she pointed in a general direction and I finally saw who she was pointing to.

He was tall, well, a lot taller than my petite height I could tell even though I was sitting down, with wavy brown hair. It was tousled, kind of beach tossed I guess, as if he hadn't combed it in a while. It didn't look bad, it suited him pretty well actually and framed his face.

As he made his was down the lunch line, I noticed there was something familiar in the how he stepped. His pace was heavy, almost sleepy like. But that one little detail didn't matter as it was overpowered by the aura of confidence that surrounded him.

Truthfully, it kind of irked me. He held himself as if there wasn't a care in his world and I envied that.

But none of that mattered as I had caught my first glimpse at him.

"Jack Brewer. He's the new kid." Eddie informed. "He's in my science class." and with that, he called him over.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**Wrote this a couple of months ago. Hope you enjoyed. Comment if you want me to continue. I have the second chapter done already. And don't worry Counting Sheep is still my main priority.**


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